All That Matters
by LilyBolt
Summary: He didn't really care how he ended up here. He hadn't cared how he'd ended up anywhere in the past week and a half. Not since Dean had died... A oneshot from Sam's POV. Not a slash fiction.


**Author's Note: This is a oneshot idea that kind of attacked my brain today, so I had to write it. I hope you enjoy! **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural. **

When Sam opened his eyes, the chair by his bedside was empty. And for just a moment, he wanted to panic. Why wasn't Dean there looking like he hadn't slept since Sam went under? Was he hurt too? But as Sam's head cleared more and he became more awake, the reason came back to him. Dean wasn't there because Dean was in Hell. Ripped from Sam's life, and never again would the younger Winchester wake up from an accident to find his big brother hovering and fussing. Dean was gone.

Sam took in his surroundings. He was lying on a typical hospital bed in a small fluorescently lit room. He didn't have enough machines hooked up to himself to indicate that his room was a part of the ICU, and all of his limbs seemed fully functional. Other than a persistent throbbing in his head and a parched mouth, he felt fine. It bothered him for just a moment that he couldn't remember what had stranded him in the hospital in the first place, but then he chose to brush the concern aside. He didn't really care how he ended up here. He hadn't cared how he'd ended up anywhere in the past week and a half. Not since Dean had died.

Not wanting to face the nurses or the questions about health insurance, Sam proceeded to get up and gather his few belongings from the small closet adjacent to his bed. After changing out of his hospital gown and into his old clothes, Sam slipped quietly into the hallway and snuck out the nearest exit. Once he got a few blocks between himself and the hospital, Sam began rummaging through his pockets for evidence of where he might have been staying before his apparent accident. He discovered a motel receipt and a key in one of his coat pockets. He used the cell from the other pocket to get directions to the building, and set off for the three mile walk.

Sam's head was really killing him by the time he arrived at "Home Suite Home Inn" room 127. He unlocked the door, walked inside, and flipped the light switch. What he saw confused him. He was in a room with two beds as opposed to one, and the nearest to him had some weapons and old clothes strewn over its rumpled sheets. But the clothes were not Sam's. They looked like…Just then Sam heard the lock turning. He quickly grabbed a revolver off of the messy bed and spun to face the intruder. The sight that greeted him nearly caused him to lose the grip on his gun. He froze, faced with none other than his dearly departed brother.

"Sam?! Why aren't you…Whoa!" Sam was caught completely off guard. The voice sounded so much like Dean's that it made Sam's heart break a little. But not enough to ebb the rage that was now rushing through Sam's veins. "Who are you?!" Sam shouted, not wanting to give the imposter the satisfaction of knowing that for just a moment, Sam had believed maybe his brother had returned somehow. The Dean-look-alike raised his eyebrows as if to say "_you're kidding me, right?_ ". "Answer me damn it!" Sam yelled again, this time stepping closer, weapon at the ready.

"Alright, alright!" The not-Dean said, raising his arms in surrender. "Dude it's me. It's Dean Winchester. Your awesome, handsome brother who would love to not get hole-punched today... Who the hell else would I be?" At the word 'hell', Sam's eyes flashed with anger. "Oh that's a low blow asshole." He said flatly. "And pretty piss-poor final words, if you ask me." He added as he cocked the gun in his hand. "Ok. That's the wrong question I guess. Let's try again… Who do you think I am?" The voice that was unbearably like his brother's finally became too much for Sam. The wound of his brother's passing was too fresh for Sam to deal with this. It hadn't even been two weeks yet… "I think you're the guy who just took his last breath." Sam said with a vicious tone. At that, he lunged forward aiming to shoot, but ready to beat his assailant if it came down to it. Instead, a sudden wave of agony hit him, and he dropped his gun as both his hands grabbed at his skull. The pain became overwhelming, and then darkness swallowed him.

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When Sam blinked his eyes open once more, the chair by his bedside was occupied with a very worry-worn Dean. It looked as though his elder brother had spent the better part of the past twenty four hours awake and stressing over Sam's condition. Sam blinked again, trying to clear the fuzziness from his brain. He felt like there was something important he was forgetting. Something big had happened…

"You gonna try and shoot me again Eastwood, or are we good this time?" Dean flashed a smile that barely covered his nerves. And then Sam remembered. He remembered waking up in the hospital and walking back to the motel. He remembered holding Dean at gunpoint. He remembered having believed it was a monster, and that his real brother had died in New Harmony not two weeks before… Except now he remembered the other stuff too. He could recall the hunt they had been on together recently. They were tackling the vengeful spirit of a former baseball player who had started offing team members who tried to take his spot in the limelight. Unfortunately for Sam, during the salt-and-burn part of things, the ghost had decided to use his head for batting practice. Dean must've finished the job and dragged his brother to the ER.

"We're good." Sam said, trying to sit up and deciding against it the moment his head began to ache. "Dude don't you ever scare me like that again. I seriously left the room to deal with papers and medical talk for all of five minutes, and I come back to an empty bed. What were you thinking?" Dean scolded. But his eyes were softer now, clearly relieved that Sam seemed more like himself. "Um…I couldn't remember what had happened when I woke up. I thought…Well I guess I lost time or something for a while, because I thought it was last summer. I thought…" Sam let his voice trail off as he observed the effect his words were having on his brother. It was clear from Dean's expression that he had understood. "You thought you were…alone." Dean finally said, careful to avoid saying the obvious _you thought I was still dead, so when I showed up you couldn't believe I was me and therefore tried to kill me._

"Well, yeah." Sam said lamely, looking at the ceiling. "Sorry I sacred you." He added, glancing apologetically at his brother. Dean stared at Sam for a long moment. "Yeah, well…Sorry I scared you too." Dean said finally. His tone was light, but his eyes were brimming with unspoken sentiment, as if staring at Sam long enough could somehow convey he was apologizing for everything he had put Sam through after he had gone to Hell. "Well it's all normal now. That's what matters, right?" Sam said. Dean slapped his brother's shoulder and finally smiled a real smile. "That's the spirit Sammy." He finally got up from the chair and belly-flopped down on his own twin bed for some much needed rest.

"And Sam?" Dean mumbled into his pillow. "Yeah Dean?" Sam replied. "Thanks for not actually shooting me. It would've put a damper on things, ya know?" Dean teased. Sam just rolled his eyes and scoffed. "I don't know. It might've improved you're face." He retorted with a smirk. Dean said nothing in reply, but threw one of his wrinkled shirts in Sam's general direction as a sign of protest before quickly succumbing to the call of sleep.

As Sam lay there he felt a sense of real peace for the first time in a long time. He contemplated how lost and empty he had felt upon reliving the days after Dean's death and how truly grateful he was that it was all back to normal now. Well, as normal as things got for the Winchesters… But as messed up as their kind of normal was, at least Sam wasn't alone in it all. As the light snoring coming from the next bed over reminded him, he had his older brother to help him through everything. And in the end, that really was all that mattered to Sam.

**Secondary Author's Note: Thanks for reading! I absolutely adore reviews, so feel free to share your thoughts with me. I'd greatly appreciate it! :) **


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